"Okay," he said tentatively, taking the rabbit's foot. What sort of happy thoughts could he think of? He'd tried, a second ago, and it had only come out morbid. ... He'd just wave it around and pretend. Think on his happy memories, maybe.

"Does it have to be personal?" Asking about how this stuff worked was probably not a good idea, but if only for a moment, he wanted to believe in it, a little. Tomoko should be happy. And he'd punch anyone (any man, or anyone, or any...lover) who made her cry in the future, but he couldn't. So he had to settle. And he didn't want any generic happiness for her, either. But what did he know about what would make her happiest? That was up to her. "... What are you thinking about?"